Letters
by kikira-chan
Summary: In which Sirius and Remus have a fight, make up through letters, and Sirius is an uncharacteristically brilliant fellow.


Title: Letters

Rating: K+

Pairing: none really but could be seen as SiriusRemus lightly.

Warnings: I don't even think I cursed.

Notes: Well I liked it...

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Remus sighed as he flopped onto his bed. He scrubbed the place between his eyes vigorously hoping to forget the reason this day had turned into such a disaster. Then again as many girls of Hogwarts had said before it was very hard to forget one Sirius Black.

It had been such a stupid fight too. Remus had been angry for some reason he couldn't even properly remember at the moment. He'd seen Sirius flaunting as usual attracting the attention of some girls most likely and it'd just rubbed Remus the completely wrong way. So it had all turned south when Sirius had spotted him and gone over to talk to him. The last and only thing he really remembered from the fight was Sirius and himself yelling at each other from across the hallway before hotfooting it in opposite directions.

Remus sighed again realizing he should get up and go talk to Sirius about the whole fight and apologize for instigating it, but he didn't really feel like it. Instead he crawled further up in his bed making sure the curtains were drawn in case Peter or James decided to play negotiator and laid down for a nap.

He laid his head down on his pillow and was about to hit one of those deep sleeps when something nudged into his ribs. He shifted and heard a distinctly crinkling paper noise. Reaching down he pulled a piece of folded parchment out from underneath him.

In Sirius's clear dark handwriting the words: _To Mr. Moony_ were written across it.

Kicking himself for it, Remus turned the parchment over and tugged off the wax seal. Inside was a long letter. Curious Remus sat up and opened a crack in his curtains to read by.

_Mr. Moony,_

_I'll start by stating the obvious, we had a falling out today. I have no doubt that it was sparked by something inane but still it bothers you and me so we should talk about it. And I have no desire to see your face right now as I might be to tempted to punch it. You find me to be a 'rich self-centered bastard who only cares about himself and the lime-light' if I remember correctly and yes I do. So in hopes to relieve your mind and hopefully gain some ground on the whole understanding friendship thing I shall explain what I believe to be the circumstances in which I became this way._

_I have lived for the past fourteen years at a lovely little home (and I use these terms loosely) that goes by the name of 12 Grimmauld Place. A rich neighborhood where rich people sit around discussing how rich they are. To this hob-snobbery I, one Sirius Black, was born. I have no doubt that you know of who the Black family are (and I say this with no pride whatsoever). They, we I should say, are a Darkarts wizarding family of the highest kind and have been Slytherins for as many decades as they can remember (or choose to remember). When I was born and more so as I grew they began to see that I was different. I was the black sheep of the family. To them I was some kind of radical hippie child doing drugs in the back of peace-mobiles and dancing naked in the streets. To me they were the reincarnation of the Nazis bent on their Aryan race of wizards. (Thank you for the muggle history book for the fun analogies.)_

_Throughout my life there I have been shunned and smitten. My brother was the one who always gained the attention and my only relief came from Andromeda who was at school and away from me as much as they could force her. As a result I longed for human/wizard contact of any kind. My first friend was the muggle mailman. His name was Jordan. We were friends for two months before my parents found out. I was locked in my room for three months. _

_I believe this is enough of the melodramatics to make you understand exactly why I crave the limelight so. The idea of people liking me is a refreshing break from the hell that occurs while I'm home over summer vacation. My parents hate you, you know. Don't feel bad though, they hate James too. I don't think they have much feelings at all about Peter. _

_As for my riches and self-centeredness, I believe those have already been covered. I would gladly live in a hovel with rags if only to have a family that actually gave a damn about something besides how much power they could accumulate in one place. To my self centerdness well in my house the House-Elf (Kreacher a nasty bugger I hope you have no chance to meet) has better standings then I, so you understand if I let myself become the primary concern over anyone at Grimmauld place. Also I just bothered to describe to you something I would've rather not talked about. And only James has the privy of knowing about a fourth of what I told you. I do rather like you and James and Peter you know and would put you over myself any day of the week. I'm just rather, well, bad at it._

_Now my psychoanalysis is over. And in revenge I am going to do your psychoanalysis. Do remember I love you like I love those little heart pancakes for Valentines and wish not to hurt your feelings but bring some possible things to mind._

_You are a werewolf (relax the paper is charmed for your eyes only). It is a thing society looks unkindly upon. A secret you must keep deeply buried and you push people away in fear that upon discovering this heinous crime they will hate you. However you very much like people and want to make friends. As you can't because of aforementioned reasons you've become slightly bitter, especially upon people who are outgoing. While it sounds self-centered I'm going to say you're bitter towards me. My secret is nothing to be deeply buried and I have no care in the world for it. I am free to pursue interests and dreams that the full moon stops you from even considering. Also your condition (is that what you're calling it now?) causes money to be tight with your family and brings some undue amounts of stress to your parents and you do love guilting yourself over it. _

_Perhaps I'm off my rocker, but as I have spent a great deal of time thinking this over I'd appreciate you doing the same before starting to hit me again. Maybe I'm self-centered and maybe you're bitter but there are reasons and causes it is not merely a thing because we are bad people and I wanted you to know that. _

_Before I close off this letter I want to make sure that you will not pity me for my rather defunct family life. It is not an ideal situation, but I have what I have and do not want any sort of pity for it. As I will not pity you for being a werewolf. _

_As he is, self-centered and hopefully still your friend,_

_Mr. Padfoot._

Remus reread the letter before laying back down now a good deal less tired and a good deal more thoughtful. Sirius and he were not all that unlike. Perhaps the conversation had been startled by his anger over something silly, but Sirius was right there had been things beneath the surface and the letter was a bit more enlightening about the motives of his friends and some of his own motives. He did feel like that sometimes. Not all the time but sometimes he was bitter and others times he felt responsible for everything.

He rubbed his forehead again with a smile on his face. Sirius was such a strange person for sure. Most people would've just hurried to brush the fight off with a quick handshake and a muttered apology.

Sitting up, Remus retrieved some parchment and a quill starting his own letter. He tossed it onto Sirius's bed hoping he came about it in the same uncomfortable way before kicking off his shoes and taking a well deserved nap.

Greyish eyes peered into the dormitory taking stock of its occupants or lack therefore before tiptoeing in quietly. Sirius noted that Remus was asleep in his bed which was probably good considering that he wouldn't really know what to say to the werewolf at the moment. He moved to his bed looking under and in and all around for his Charm's book. He spotted Remus's letter and stopped his search to plop down on the side of his bed facing away from Remus to open the letter.

_To Mr Padfoot _was written on the front in Remus's looping cursive.

_Mr. Padfoot,_

_I have read your letter twice over and given it the approximate amount of thought it takes for three owls to come through the bedroom and someone's potions homework to explode twice. You, as pained as I am to admit it, have a point and are fairly close to correct. (I'll never give you the satisfaction of admitting you're right.)_

_The argument was my fault. I was angry about some potion's homework or some other pointless matter. You're presence just triggered me off. I am bitter sometimes and you are self-centered sometimes and it's best if it's not at the same time. As it was my fault and despite any reasons to why its justified, I apologize. _

_You need not worry about me pitying you. You don't need it and you have made the point clear that you don't want it. I am glad to see in return I will get the same consideration. I despise the pity I have been given and to receive it from a close friend would be unacceptable at the least. The main reason that we all became friends was because you all shrugged off my being a werewolf so easily. As I imagine we were your friends because we shrugged off the Black heritage so easily. Though you can imagine I am slightly concerned about your staying with your Dark wizard family simply as a matter of safety (you becoming a dark wizard is an impossible image to me) and hope you remember the invitation of a safe summer at my house is always open and by chance its not, James' is. _

_You are not the perfect person with social interactions and neither am I with my secret. I will tell you this letter is an abnormal way for people to resolve a fight but also an unexpectedly wonderful treat. I enjoy what you think and how you feel much more so than the brush off saying the fight meant nothing. Even if it didn't really._

_I'll be the first to admit our personalities should clash and smoulder. However I'll also be the first to admit that we are very good friends (despite our problems) and I enjoy your company nine times out of ten. I suppose as the way of magnets and muggle sayings, opposites attract. _

_I fully intend to send you to a muggle school for psychology. You'll get a masters and more money than you know what to do with. _

_Bitter and your friend even if you aren't his,_

_Mr. Moony_

Sirius closed the letter half-smiling, half-pensive. He was worried. As they all got older their ties, their group strained and tugged like a wild animal trying to escape its cage. So much was brought to question by the appearance of dark wizards as well as just the day to day psychological backgrounds of the Marauders. It was so easy when they'd been children or more-so children. Easy loyalty, no need to question anyone on anything, and the small difference were swept under the rug by the need for each other. The need for the companionship in a place were it was so easy to lose yourself. Scared of the future and the idea of going out to look at other people with grey eyes that were masked with psychological and philosophical reasoning, Sirius crawled over to Remus's bed pushing him over and falling down next to him to fall asleep.

I would die for you, Mr. Moony, Sirius thought laying on his back gazing at the top of the bed canopy while Remus snored lightly next to him, but in the long run we all need so much more than something easy like death.

Sirius tucked himself tighter against Remus and further into the bed away from the world.

I wish letters could fix everything, Remus.

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End Notes: I would appreciate any advice or thoughts on the story. Thank you for reading. 


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